Sybil in Red
by Red Wasabi
Summary: We all have problems, some of us have just developed different ways of coping with them. Sideswipe POV. Oneshot.


**Title: **Sybil in Red

**Author:** Red Wasabi

**Disclaimer:** Not mine!

**Notes: **Wow, I feel so enthused right now! I'm back in the writer's chair! As of late I was stricken with a terrible case of writer's block, but now I'm starting to work my way through it. OK so this piece is an unusual piece I think, I was going for the mental illness slant. Particularly the split personalities realm. Did I make it? **Sideswipe/Ratchet/mistake**

**Rated:** Pg-13

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Sideswipe felt like rolling his optics as he felt the couch sag heavily and his golden brother fell down next to him in an angry huff. Sideswipe momentarily looked away from his TV show to glance down at the pouting features of his golden twin. He didn't need to have physic powers to know what was going on—Sunstreaker and Ratchet had obviously gotten into _another_ fight.

'I swear they spend more time fragged off at each other than not.' Sideswipe sighed to himself as he began to lower the volume of his audios. He had weathered out some of their worst fights, and by now he was a pro—he practically had a script to read.

'_Enter angry Brother. Dramatic flop on couch. Loud huff. Open mouth and action--!'_

"Sideswipe, you'll never believe what _He_ has done now!" Sideswipe felt like smiling as Sunstreaker began. '_Really? I won't __**ever**__ guess?_' Sideswipe nodded sympathetically at his twin as he turned the volume of his internal radio up.

"What has he done now?" H asked in his by now perfected, 'I really care about what's going on with your love life' voice.

Sunstreaker sighed grouchily, not noticing the complete lack of interest radiating form his twin. "Tonight we were supposed to have 'us' time, so I go to pick Ratch up at the bay, and what do I find?" Sunstreaker paused in his tirade and looked expectantly up at his red twin.

'_He's looking at me and not talking_, _He can't possibly b done already_.' Sideswipe checked his script. '_Oh, he's at the part where he's complaining about Ratchet's work. That explains it_.' Sideswipe schooled his face plates in to his well rehearsed, 'concerned frown', "What happened then?"

Sunstreaker rolled over to lie on his chassis with a cranky hmph, "He was too busy that's what happened! He's working on some project with 'Wheeljack' that's too '_important_'to quit in the middle of!"

Sideswiped hummed agreeingly, ignoring most every other word that was leaving Sunstreaker's vocalizer. It was almost time for him to exeunt stage right. _'Wait for it, wait for it…_'

"You know its things like this that make me re-think all of _this_…' Sunstreaker whispered sadly to his brother. '_That's my cue_.'

Sideswipe brushed his knuckles fondly against Sunstreaker's helm, "It sounds like you've had it rough today Bro. How about I go to the rec. room, get a few cubes of low grade for us and we spend the rest of the shift here playing video games?" Sideswipe smiled as a petulant scowl covered Sunstreaker's face plates. Sunny always acted like he didn't want to be with him after one of their fights; but Sideswipe knew better then to believe those lying face plates.

"Yeah, whatever." Sunstreaker mumbled out turning over to bury his face in the back of their couch. Sideswipe nodded approvingly, now for his biggest part. Quietly Sideswipe stood up and stretched out his thick metal limbs before moving swiftly towards the door.

If Sunstreaker had cared to look up from the couch cushions at that moment he would have seen his red twin turn, not in the direction of the rec. room, but towards the medical bay. Sunstreaker however never looked up, and Sideswipe knew it; his brother was still in the dark about Sideswipe's meddling ways.

Sideswipe let out his first audible sigh as he rapidly moved down the hallway, his goal in mind. He knew he shouldn't really be interfering, but he couldn't help. He had always acted as Sunstreaker's mediator with the rest of the world. He had done it when they were first sparked, and Sunny refused to speak cybertronain. He'd done it when Sunstreaker had been interested in his first femme. He supposed that some mechs might be tired of cleaning up after another mech's messes for the last fifty six vorns, but for him it was just the natural order of things. Sunny destroyed, and He followed in his wake cleaning, and patching things up as best as he could.

Sideswipe stared blankly at the med bay doors in front of him. From the other side of the door a wild growling noise could be heard, it was a noise that warned most mechs off. Told them that 'here in lies a very fragged off medic, enter is you dare', that noise didn't bother Sideswipe any more though.

Sideswipe's optics offlined as he concentrated on he almost musical pitches of Ratchet's ranting. No, he wasn't scared off by the angry medic, not any more then his brother scared him when he was sin one of his moods. The sound that came from behind these doors was one of familiarity—and comfort.

'It's now or never.' Sideswipe thought as he onlined his optics and placed his digits nervously against the cool frame of the door. "Excuse me, Ratchet?" He called out imploringly from the other side of the door.

Sideswipe winced as a loud crash sounded from the med. bay and the thundering pede steps of Ratchet came stomping up to the locked door. "What is it Sideswipe?" Ratchet growled against the door.

Sideswipe shook his head, how did he get stuck with this job again? "We need to talk Ratchet." He answered calmly; this dance was familiar to him.

Sideswipe waited patiently as Ratchet's heavy, angry pede steps moved away from the door. _'Three, two, one_,' the door in front of Sideswipe unlocked with a quiet click. Sideswipe resisted the urge to smirk as he walked into the tense med. bay. '_They told me I would be shooting slagging Deepticons when I joined up, and what I doing? I'm a fragging '__**feelings**__' janitor._' Sideswipe took a cautious glance around at the disassembled bay around him; sometimes he wasn't even sure why he kept on fixing things between these two. It always broke apart again, despite all of his best efforts to keep both his Brother and Ratchet happy with each other. It just felt so futile sometimes; the strained wheeze of Ratchet's air compressors drew Sideswipe's attention back to the current predicament. '_Well_ _I guess it's time for me to '__**clean up'**__ again._'

* * *

"Wow, with that paint job you look just like Sunstreaker!" Sideswipe brittlely smiled at yet another mech who had seen fit to tell him how much he looked like his brother tonight. Sideswipe looked down at the temporary gold paint that he had bought just for this occasion.

Normally he wasn't into the local customs but this one seemed to call out to him; a night of pretending to be someone—thing, that you're not, what could be more fun? It was even better since, after a few cubes of high grade, he had managed to convince Sunstreaker to come to the party painted red—like he had been.

Sideswipe stared across the room at his now red twin, with the way he and Ratchet were leaning into one another whispering Sideswipe knew that he had once again managed to smooth things over again between the two.

Sideswipe smiled fondly at the flirting couple as he sipped from his cube. There was nothing he liked better then to see his twin happy; it was one of his driving motivations in life. He did everything for Sunstreaker, including fixing his mistakes.

Sideswipe smiled goofily at the couple as he picked up his sixth cube in an hour. He had never had what Sunstreaker had, not in all of their vorns; but that was ok. He only _needed_ Sunstreaker. He didn't _need_ any other mech, and so far no other mech had ever needed him. They had always wanted Sunstreaker before Sideswipe; it was just the way things were.

Sideswipe nearly jumped when a mech sat down next to him with a loud thump. Blearily he tried to focus his optics on the silver mech next to him. "Has anyone told you, you look just like your brother tonight?" A familiar voice joked cheerily at him.

Sideswipe blinked dazedly attempting to register the voice, "Yeah, just about every mech in here has told me that tonight." He replied with a laugh. "Who knew that the only difference between us two was a paintjob!"

The mech next to him began to laugh drunkenly, "Yeah you know I'm surprised Ratchet can even tell you two apart, you're practically the same!" The mech fell on to the floor, and began laughing wildly at his own joke; he didn't notice that Sideswipe was no longer laughing along with him.

Sideswipe picked up his eighth cube and quickly began to down it. Was it true, the only difference between his brother and he was a paintjob?

Sideswipe looked down at his own golden arm, carefully studying the golden contours of his frame. It was Sunstreaker's frame, it wasn't his. Sideswipe looked across the room at his red twin who looked like he was in the middle of a heated debate with Ratchet. For a moment Sideswipe was confused, why was he across the room, arguing with Ratchet? He didn't want to argue it was in his nature to heal, not hurt!

Sideswipe jumped when the argument finally reached its peak both Ratchet and his red twin storming out of opposite doors of the rec. room. '_What happened? It was going so good…_'

"Sideswipe," Sideswipe spilled some of his cube as a voice form behind startled him. Slowly he turned around to look up at the imposing black and white figure of Prowl. "You'd better go after them Sideswipe. You seem to be the only one to be able to solve their fights." Sideswipe dumbly nodded his head as he tried to stand up with out swaying.

Sideswipe, that was right;_ he_ was Sideswipe. Sideswipe fought the uncomfortable urge to look down and examine his paint job, of course it wasn't red. They had switched colors for the night, he was still Sideswipe--he was just gold now. Sideswipe rubbed digits slowly across his back neural processors. '_Why do they hurt so much?_'

"Sunstreaker?" Sideswipe turned ungainly towards the voice.

"Who's there?" He called out unsure. Sideswipe blinked hazily in surprise as the familiar white and red frame of Ratchet stepped out of the shadows.

"You so drunk you don't remember your own lover now Sunny?" Ratchet slurred out, as he leaned heavily on the door frame of the vacant storage room.

Sideswipe shuddered at Ratchet's tone, ignoring the painful pressure growing in his processors. "Am I your lover?" He questioned softly, more to himself then to the lustful medic behind him.

Ratchet's arm snaked out faster then Sideswipe was able to see and latched tightly on to his arm pulling him in to the darkened storage space. "Of course you're my lover _Sunstreaker_."

A flurry of confused algorithms began to flash violently in Sideswipe's optics as Ratchet tipped his head to the side and began running his hot glossa in and out of his face plates. Sideswipe cried out in pain and pleasure as Ratchet's glossa dug into a sensitive seam, and the pain in his neural net finally exploded.

Then it was gone and everything made such perfect sense that Sideswipe would have liked to have stopped and told Ratchet except that he was too busy to listen at the moment. Sideswipe took a long gulp of air into his compressor as Ratchet's digits roved purposefully across his plating. Sideswipe's optics focused eerily on his golden frame, they had the same frame, the same spark; but it wasn't until now that he realized _he_ was Sunstreaker.

They were the _same_; the mech in the recreation room even admitted it. They had never been different; they had only _thought_ that they were. Sideswipe looked longingly up at the sensual mech above him, he could never have this mech as Sideswipe—_but_ if he were _Sunstreaker_.

Sideswipe smiled cockily up at Ratchet, "I wanna be on top."

* * *

Sideswipe woke up slowly, the heavy drinking form the night before still weighing on his thought processors. '_Why does my bed feel so weird?_' He thought mystified at the hand that seemed to be underneath his back panels. '_Did Sideswipe fell asleep in my berth?_' Suddenly a shot of terror ran through Sideswipe's systems as he on lined his optics, and took a look at the scene around him.

'_What did I do last night?_' He wondered in shock as he stared down at the recharging form of Ratchet next to him. '_What have I done…_' The night's memories came back in flashes, the torrid moments, the passionate calls. Sideswipe's face plates widened in horror as he recalled the extent betrayal he had commit against his brother.

'No, I didn't. I couldn't have—' He thought numbly as he unconsciously scrambled to the door and crawled feebly out of the storage space. Sideswipe sat in front o the door clutching his knees up to his chassis, he couldn't have done _that_. He wouldn't have done _that_. He—a soothing voice in his neural processors interrupted his panicking mental rant. _'Of course you didn't do anything. Sunstreaker did._' Slowly Sideswipe wiped away the fuel that had leaked onto his face plates. '_Sunstreaker did that? Not me?_'

'_Sunstreaker was with Ratchet last night_,' the voice assured him. Sideswipe nodded slowly. He could feel his frame relax, with this new knowledge, regardless of it's source. '_Who are you?_' He asked curiously. Sideswipe felt as wave of tiredness hit him as the voice laughed heartily at his confusion. '_Why I'm Sideswipe you silly sparkling. Now go to the wash racks and get cleaned up._' It gently commanded.

Sideswipe stood up, the tension that had been in his frame when he awoke this morning completely gone. _He_ was right, he need to go and get washed up, and then he would go lay down in his proper berth. When he woke up everything would be ok again, because _Sideswipe_ always took care of _everything_.

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**AN: **So didja like it? Are ya gonna review?( cause reviews are like fuel for meh!)


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